


Rinse and Repeat

by gunblade



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen, M/M, ongoing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunblade/pseuds/gunblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although Naegi is clumsy, he doesn’t misstep his way into Byakuya Togami. No, it’s quite the opposite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Donkey Boy

The best of soft rock hits is interrupted by a jarring commercial for a series of rehabilitation centers. Naegi jumps and instinctively gropes for the volume on his too expensive cell phone with not quite as expensive technology, effectively quieting the mock soothing voice of a woman offering  _Help and a Safe Place_   _even_   _you_   _can find relief in_. We’re here to help.

Up ahead, there’s a man in neon yellow shorts gulping at the air like a sea bass. He’s standing right where Naegi wants to go — it’s the only spot on the stairs where his peers aren’t coming in a constant stream. Ricocheting red blood cells against corroded arteries. Naegi stands at the foot of those stairs seeking a hole in the crowd while an attorney mumbles in his ears about malpractice.

It’s like this everyday. At the peak of the morning, right before the coveted Lunch Break, the university’s covered in students ranging in age from young adult to might experience heart failure at any given moment. Some students scream across the campus and others hunch over to hide their heads, but Naegi just walks. He just walks from one place to the other with his backpack over his shoulder and his headphones in his ears like little white pills that disconnect him from reality, if only for a moment.

The music starts again and Naegi lets out a sigh of relief.

There’s a hole, take it! Up the stairs to the right. More crowds gathered in the hallways.  _Bump_. A hurried apology and a self-conscious chuckle. Naegi is always clumsy but it’s part of the dance. The string of fate pulls and tugs him right where he’s supposed to go.

This is how he meets Byakuya Togami.

Byakuya Togami is the sort of asshole authors write about. He could be a rival in a cliche romance novel in which the protagonist has to overcome all of the obstacles the wealthy, arrogant and handsome son of a tycoon presents, except everyone knows that Togami has no interest in romance. He scoffs at the idea. Girls claim to be in love with him and he looks them dead in the eye and drones, “You’re an imbecile. What you’re experiencing is infatuation. A combination of chemicals, such as dopamine and adrenaline, are pouring into your senses and stunting all logical thought, should you have had any in the first place.”

Naegi is well aware of him already. Togami is in a couple of his classes but they’ve never spoken because Naegi’s never thought to try and Togami’s never had need. Really, they’ve never exchanged so much as a glance. Naegi knows Togami has enough money to buy this university and everyone in it if he chose to, which is a little daunting, but…

Boy, even Togami’s hair is gold.

Although Naegi is clumsy, he doesn’t misstep his way into Byakuya Togami. No, it’s quite the opposite.

Togami missteps into Naegi.

There’s a light thud against Naegi’s back. He whirls around to habitually apologize — his fault or not — but his ten ton backpack swings and connects with Togami’s solar plexus. Togami, grunting on impact, adjusts his designer glasses and glares from behind them in his half bow.

Naegi is petrified.

“ _I’msosorry!_ " he blurts. His hands are up and he’s reaching for Togami as if that could possibly help in anyway. He recoils when Togami’s jaw sets. Oh man.

"I’m sorry," he says again before swallowing a lump in his throat. "I wasn’t paying attention."

“ _Obviously_ ,” Togami hisses as he straightens.

"Can I make it up to you?"

Byakuya Togami is the kind of asshole girls fall fictionally in love with, even though they would likely hate him in reality. He’s selfish and mean with the social prowess of a spoiled five-year-old. In his free time, he’s a hermit surrounded by books and research because he’s far too intelligent and thinks he’s better than everyone else. Hell, there’s a rumor that he even played the stock market for a day and racked in  _more_  cash that he doesn’t really need.

Byakuya Togami is an asshole, so it shouldn’t be a surprise when he snaps a quickly fired  _no_  and storms off. It  _shouldn’t_  be a surprise, but Naegi is still standing there in the middle of the hallway rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

He resolves to put the whole experience behind him with a heaved breath, turning up the volume on his musical escape.

If only it were that easy.


	2. Anime Protaging 101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought i'd abandoned this, but i thought wrong, my friends. welcome to hell! welcome to hell!
> 
> time to continue this beast.

The grass is green, iPhones aren’t water resistant, Mona Lisa doesn’t have eyebrows, and Makoto Naegi is exceptionally average. It’s a _fact_.

Where Naegi excels, he does so no better or no worse than the median of his demographic, so he’s relatively unaffected by the 75% score on the test in his hand. 良 his professor’s written in red ink.

Normal. Standard. Makoto Naegi.

He sighs and collapses on the bed in his half of the 10’ x 15’ storage unit. (They call it a _dorm_.) “I never thought I’d say this but man, I miss high school.”

"That bad?" Komaeda asks from the other half, an impressive five feet away.

"No," he answers. "I guess not."

Komaeda stands with a practiced smile that would certainly look passable if not for the strain around his eyes. “I imagine that once you get into the routine, you’ll find it’s not so bad here.”

Naegi nods halfheartedly.

There’s a pause in which Komaeda gathers the clothes he was folding into neat piles across his mattress. “How’s Maizono-san?”

The question elicits a hum. Naegi sits up and fumbles through his pocket for his cellphone, turning the screen on. _No new texts._ “She’s fine, I think.”

"You _think_?” Komaeda sounds mildly amused.

"I mean, I talked to her earlier but she’s been really busy doing…idol stuff."

"Singing?"

Naegi blows at his bangs. “Yeah, and she’s getting ready to go on tour next month.”

"Ah," Komaeda says as if he inherently understands what all that entails. "I suppose it won’t be a quick stint?"

"Probably not…"

Nagito Komaeda is lucky. He fell into money at a young age. _Literally_. The story went that one day, strolling along the street as he whistled gaily, he’d tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and stumbled into a conveniently placed garbage can. It collapsed. He collapsed. Laugh track ensues. Papers everywhere; trash on his head; other embellishments Naegi can’t recall — and there, as Komaeda hissed in pain and _peeled_ himself off of the concrete, he’d seen it: a lottery ticket. Something had compelled him to pick it up and when he got home, what had happened to be on the television?

Boy with a broken ankle collects money. Happy ending.

Naegi sighs as he drops his cellphone onto his bedside table and gives Komaeda a weary stare. “It’s okay, isn’t it? I mean, that I don’t hear from her more often? I worry about her…”

“Mm, that’s really up to your judgement.” He turns enough to give Naegi a smile that’s truly more of a slight lip curl. “Naturally, I don’t expect her to feel obligated to check in often. She’s a busy young idol who will soon be touring the country and you’re in school. Still…as your girlfriend, I feel she should say hello every now and then.” There’s a pause then that grows sour. Komaeda has his hands raised in front of him as if Naegi might grow bull horns and charge. Olé. “Ah, but who am I to say such things? It’s quite rude of me! My apologies, Naegi-kun!”

“N-no, Komaeda-kun…” Komaeda’s self-confidence is a yoyo. What to do?

As Naegi fumbles for slippery words, Komaeda flashes another family portrait smile and turns back to his laundry. Crisis averted.

“I really don’t want to be clingy.”

“Clinginess is hardly a trait I’d connect with you, Naegi-kun.” Komaeda breathes a quiet laugh.

Naegi swears he’d heard, “ _But it is one of mine._ ”

\- x -

Togami ignores Naegi harder than he’d ever had. Before it was because he hadn’t known of Naegi’s existence, but now it seems much more deliberate. Naegi finds himself glancing at Togami every so often in their Business Economics class, and Togami doesn’t once return eye contact. No, not even to _glare_. Naegi tries desperately to **stop** but finds that he **can’t** because. Because!

Because somewhere in his sunshiny head, he thinks that Togami is closing himself off from everyone and desperately needs friendship to perk into the beautiful flower he truly is.

Naegi almost scolds himself out loud. _Stupid._ Yet there are an abrupt pair of eyes boring in his soul not a moment later and —

**_Oh my god, I said that out loud._ **

Togami stared. Togami glared. Togami looked downright offended.

 _Oh! Ohnoohnoohno!_ “No! Not you, Togami-kun!”

The world comes to a screeching halt. Their professor turns his attention to Naegi and naturally, so does the rest of the curious class. The lecture that was background noise not a moment ago is now a throbbing absence of sound.

Seconds tick-tock- _tick_ by and his heart pounds in his ears. He’s overheating. His hands are shaking. Some of his peers look thoroughly amused and wow, this is infinitely worse than any anime has ever made it look. This is downright horrifying.

“Um…” Naegi rises and bows as deeply as he can without concussing himself on his desk. (Wham!) “S-sorry! I’m so sorry! Please continue!”

A few giggles travel along the crowd. Naegi stays in his position until he hears his professor exhale a dismissive acceptance, after which he all but sinks into his chair and tries to melt into the floor.

He can still feel Togami’s searing gaze without so much as raising his head.

_Rest in peace, me._

At least Komaeda will come to his funeral.


End file.
